


Blood

by Sitrus



Series: dream daddy drabbles [2]
Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Coughing, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of it, M/M, POV Second Person, Pneumonia, Present Tense, Robert is a stubborn ass ok, Sickfic, and very mature, ao3 suggest weird tags for me, definitely as mature as you'd expect from someone his age, idk - Freeform, kind of, some cursing but what do you expect - it's robert, the two hated things in one fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 17:43:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12017826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sitrus/pseuds/Sitrus
Summary: As if the coughing wasn't bad enough in itself there's blood staining the tissues Robert uses. He doesn't seem to care but you do not share his apparent indifference.





	Blood

“Ready to go and see a doctor?” you ask, looking up from the book you have been reading for the past hour. Robert is mostly sitting up on the sofa, one arm supporting his weight as he tries to catch his breath amid a coughing fit. He glares at you for less than a second before balling up the tissue he’s holding and throwing it to general direction of a trashcan. He lies back down, still breathing heavily. You can hear the wheezing over to your spot.

“That doesn’t sound good. You need to get yourself checked”, you say. 

Robert swallows and breathes in deeply but slowly, careful not to trigger another coughing fit.

“All I need is a nap. Maybe a shot of whiskey”, he mumbles, having to rush the second sentence to get it out before the coughs take over again. You watch as he tries to hold them off until he has pulled out another tissue. He manages, but it clearly takes a lot out him and he isn’t able to draw in a proper breath before he’s hacking his lungs out. Nor is he able to breathe between the coughs either. Shit. You stand up and walk over to him and help him sit up. A couple of minutes later he’s able to stop but you know from experience he will start coughing again if he tries to breathe normally. He spits the mucus he’s coughed up into the tissue – something he didn’t do yesterday or the days before that – before accepting the water you are offering him. A few sips later he finally takes a deeper breath and settles back down.

“You’ve been sick for over a week. You should be getting better but guess what? You’ve only got worse.”

He doesn’t respond, not with words anyway. He buries his head into a pillow and grunts which leads to yet another, this time thankfully manageable, coughing fit. It’s clear to you that Robert isn’t done being stubborn beyond reason and you are ready to let it be for now when you notice--

“Is that [i]blood[/i]?” you ask, swiftly grabbing Robert’s hand that’s still holding the tissue. He tries to pull it away but tug is weak and your hold doesn’t break. Some red is seeping through the tissue and there isn’t any question where that came from. You let go of Robert’s hand and he balls up the tissue and hides it under his pillow as if he could still cover up the whole thing.

“How long have you been coughing up blood for?” you ask, getting only silence in response. “Robert, this is serious.”

“Since last night”, Robert mumbles after a short pause. That probably explains his sudden interest in using tissues… You give him a displeased glare even though he won’t see it.

“Shit… You do realise that is a really bad sign, right..? I’m taking you to emergency care and either you walk to the car yourself or I’m carrying you.”

Robert stays silent for a moment before cracking his eyes open and giving you a long, tired look.

“You can’t carry me.”

“Watch me.”

Robert blinks slowly and pushes himself to a sitting position. He rubs his hands over his face and pushes them through his hair, waiting a few seconds before standing up. He’s unsteady on his feet and almost falls back on the sofa as soon as he’s up, but only almost. 

“I’m up. Lets go”, he grunts as soon as he has gained something that resembles balance. He looks displeased with the situation as he walks past you, shoulder brushing against yours, and makes his way to the front door. He fumbles with his jacket almost as much as he does when he’s blackout drunk and doesn’t even bother trying to tie his shoelaces. You keep an eye on him all the time, ready to grab him in case he loses his balance, but he doesn’t need your help. You get ready in the time it takes him to open the door.

Robert is silent during the ride to the hospital aside from the frequent coughing fits. It’s clear that he’s sulking, his irrational stubbornness and dramatic nature only enhanced by the fever he’s running. As you pull into the hospital’s parking lot you prepare yourself for the Grumpy (old) Man drama he probably will succumb to.

Despite your worst fears Robert dutifully signs himself in to the clinic and a nurse guides you to the appropriate waiting area. Robert doesn’t say anything but he seems relieved when he gets to sit down again. He sinks into his seat, sliding down into a position you would never have thought of as comfortable but which apparently is very much to his liking. The bit of walking has left him breathing heavily and coughing more, and you can hear the labored wheezing even more clearly that before. It takes him almost ten minutes to recover from the strain with the occasionally breathless coughing fits making it hard for him to catch his breath. Another ten minutes and he’s called into one of the examination rooms. You try asking if he wants you to follow but he doesn’t answer so you stay in your seat and wait.

You’ve been nervously picking at your cuticles for half an hour when the door opens again. You hear Robert’s illness-beaten voice bellow as loudly and angrily as he can manage, but you can’t hear what he’s saying. Not long after a nurse comes out, pushing Robert out in one of those hospital wheelchairs. The arguing must have been about that. The nurse pushes him further down the hallway and around a corner, and you lose the sight of them again.

A few minutes later they return and not long after that a frustrated looking middle-aged doctor appears at the doorway and calls to you. That’s weird.

“I am not staying in a fucking hospital!”

Robert is sitting on the examination table and coughing into a tissue when you enter the room. Judging by the looks on the hospital staffs’ faces he has been giving them a hard time, probably protesting everything they’ve proposed so far. Yet they’ve somehow managed to x-ray his chest…

“Like I said, Mr. Small, staying here is recommended-” Robert grunts out more protests between the still ongoing coughs, interrupting the doctor midsentence. “-but we can release you as long as you won’t be alone. Someone needs to be there with you in case you get worse and need to be brought back in.”

Both Robert and the doctor turn to look at you. Oh. 

“I uhh… I can stay with him”, you suggest, knowing well this is why you were brought in.

The doctor eyes you up and down and then sighs.

“Bedrest for a week, no physical activity for at least a month – he needs to rest so he can recover. I prescribed him some antibiotics and some medicine that will help him breath better”, the doctor says. He hands you the prescription, then looks you in the eyes. “Pneumonia can get worse very suddenly so I suggest you keep a close eye on him for the next couple of days. Any change for the worse and he has to come back.”

You blink slowly as you process what he just said. Pneumonia..? You knew it had to be serious when you saw the blood but actually hearing a doctor verify it makes the reality sink in deeper. You look at Robert, trying to give him an accusatory look but he’s nailed his eyes on something on the wall, clearly trying to avoid eye contact. Mature…

“Of course”, you say, turning back to face the doctor, and force a polite smile on your face. “I’ll make sure he's taken care of.”

**Author's Note:**

> idk  
> mostly actually edited for once  
> I had something I wanted to say here but I forgot what that was
> 
> //edit. I remembered what I wanted to say, lol. I don't like reader inserts or second person pov fics and I know people prefer past tense but uhhhhh  
> it happened


End file.
